


Tumblr Prompts

by Moonshine_Givens



Category: Justified
Genre: Drabbles, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-14
Updated: 2013-06-22
Packaged: 2017-12-05 07:51:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/720626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonshine_Givens/pseuds/Moonshine_Givens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Exactly what the name says: Drabbles for Tumblr's Prompts featuring, mostly, our most beloved fearsome cowboy and his dashing criminal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Unbind me

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there, Gunslingers!  
> This is a list of prompts that can be found here http://askboxmemes.tumblr.com/post/31099194023/even-more-drabbles  
> The first prompt goes for the lovely windcreaturecassiel, and it's "Unbind me". It has two tries, since I couldn't decide how I wanted to make this.  
> First time drabbling, so be aware for shitty fics!

Leave a “Unbind Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about your character freeing mine, or the other way around, or something among the lines [be it freeing them from jail, from handcuffs, from a trap, from a curse, feel free to specify.]

 

*****

“You gonna get me out of those or what?”

“Not sure I will, Boyd. You look comfortable in cuffs. In fact, I would say it’s a natural look on you. It does wonders for your eyes.”

“And I would say you’re an asshole, if we’re all ‘bout tellin’ the true here.”

“You never knew how to take a compliment.”

“I wish you’d be taking somethin’ alright, boy.”

“And now you’re flirting your way out of the handcuffs? Do tell, did that ever work when you did time?”

“You askin’ me if I was anyone’s bitch in jail, Raylan?”

“I believe the right term would be ‘bitch in heat’, but I guess we already have the answer for that one…”

“Jesus, son, were you always this fuckin’ annoying?”

“Not how you used to call me, no.”

“And now who is flirting?”

“Can’t help but feel a lil’ nostalgic, what with knowing you’ll be a married man soon…”

“Well, Raylan, you can rest assured you’ll always have a place in my heart.”

“That would be real sweet, Boyd, but I’m afraid I’m detecting am undertone of sarcasm somewhere in there, I’m not sure what to make of it.”

“I’ll tell you what, you can also have a place in my bed if you get me out of those cuffs.”

“Now, now, I think I’d rather have you restrained. You were always feisty, if I remember well.”

“Gonna make me suck you, Raylan? Gonna make me kneel on the ground with my hands tied on the back and swallow your cum?”

“Jesus Christ, you kiss your momma with that mouth?”

“There’s been a while since I kissed my late momma, but I would be more than happy to kiss your cock.”

“Where is this all comin’ from, anyway?”

“Maybe I’m tired of playing games, boy, we ain’t nineteen any longer.”

“And how ‘bout your soon to be wife?”

“You gonna tell her?”

“Maybe I will, just to save her from marrying another Crowder.”

“Then I’m happy to inform I won’t be anywhere near to see her shootin’ your scrawny ass.”

“Like you don’t wanna a piece of this.”

“What brings us back to my point exactly, are we doing this or what?”

“…”

“Look, Raylan, this ain’t rocket science. You wanna do this, we gotta do it now, before we get back to the bar. You don’t wanna do this, you keep drivin’ and I won’t ever bring it back again, but you’ll stop doing bedroom eyes at me or I’ll call you out on your bullshit. Either way, you know you ain’t arrestin’ me for shit, so you get me out of this goddamn cuffs.”

“… how about we see what else your mouth is good for, and then we talk ‘bout the cuffs?”

“Kinky asshole.”


	2. Unbind me, part two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a second take on the "Unbind me" prompt, this time with a bit more angst than I would like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> windcreaturecassiel was kind enough to prompt me to write, and the first try was a bit too angst for me to submit as the answer. But it's here anyway!  
> The prompt was:  
> "Leave a “Unbind Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about one character freeing another, or the other way around, or something among the lines [be it freeing them from jail, from handcuffs, from a trap, from a curse, feel free to specify.]"

One of those days Raylan is gonna get him in handcuffs that won’t ever come out.

He remembers closing the metal around Boyd’s slender wrists so many times now. He remembers every single time, remembers how the cold material would bite the warm skin, hurting and imprisoning, once again clipping Boyd’s wings.

Every time the dry click would sound final, the end of something.

Every time Boyd’s wings would set themselves free again.

Handcuffs are what really puts them apart: the law doesn’t mean shit, not really, it’s just a bunch of codes writing by other men that Raylan follows. Boyd follows his own codes, different ones – codes that he changes just like the weather.

They’re both men of guns, of violence and blood, so the guns only make them equal. But only Raylan can end Boyd’s freedom, only Raylan has the power to incarcerate, to restrain the movements Boyd will do with his limbs, the amount of time Boyd’s skin will get to see the sun. And that’s why Boyd is always losing, even when Raylan is not winning: Raylan has the handcuffs.

Boyd can’t move his hands more than a few inches, Raylan can’t breathe. This is not funny anymore, but Boyd keeps making the same moves, the same choices, and Raylan doesn’t have the key to all chains.

One of those days, Raylan knows the handcuffs will come to stay. He hopes it’s the handcuffs, he prays for handcuffs; handcuffs will be a fuckin’ miracle. Because the other option – something horrible, something unthinkable – it’s a bullet that won’t miss the heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompts are at http://ohthati.tumblr.com/post/45326626193/drabbles-send-me-characters-and-a-prompt  
> You want some, just send me an ask!  
> Thanks for reading!


	3. Call me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt submitted by Ilovealistair. The prompt says:  
> "Leave a “Call Me” in my ask, and I will write a drabble about one character asking for another [be it at the brink of death/in a battlefield/knocking on the front door wounded, feel free to specify.]"  
> I... didn't exactly follow.  
> Be aware of angst!

The first time Raylan calls his name – Boyd, and not Crowder – he’s not really calling him: it’s more of a sort of acknowledge. They’re eighteen and it’s their second day in the mine, and they’re the youngest men in there: everyone around just calls them son or boy.

Raylan comes that morning while Boyd’s still gearing up. He looks around for a second, moves his head as something like good morning for all the guys around and, as he passes Boyd, he says his name loud enough to be heard by everyone around. At the same time, it’s a low, throaty sound; the way he would drag the first letters long enough for Boyd to almost think Raylan was just about to call him boy like all the other men.

It wasn’t just a morning greeting; it was a way of recognizing Boyd as different from the rest, or maybe as his equal. To make him special and unique, a man with a name, a friend that he knows. From that point on, Boyd knew: it would be the two of them and the others. Not against, really, but they would be different, they would be two, Raylan ‘n Boyd. Boyd remembers that a long time after….

He remembers…

Boyd remembers as he listen to Raylan call his name one more time. He knows he hasn’t answered Raylan in a while, and that he has his eyes closed down, so the man must be getting worried. They are both injured, but Boyd has taken the worst: a bullet to his side, and the bleeding won’t stop. They’re sitting side by side against the wooden wall of a rotten shack, Theo Tonin men all around them. There’s no real hope, and the marshals have no way of knowing where they are, they’ll either gonna bleed out together or the shack will fall apart. Either way, they’re not living to see another day.

“…no reason to Butch Cassidy and Sundance our way out of this, Ray…Raylan. No reason why you shouldn’t…”

“Boyd.”

Raylan says his name, and he’s not checking to see if Boyd is alive. It’s the same tone he used that first time: it’s not really a calling, but an acknowledge of sorts. They’re two. They’re them. It’s Raylan ‘n Boyd, as it always was: that’s how it’ll end.

Boyd gets up them, the gun in his hand, to stand by Raylan’s side once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this one! You wanna talk to me, I'm at ohthati.tumblr.com !


	4. Enamor Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ilovealistair left the prompt "Enamour Me"  
> It says:  
> "Leave a “Enamor Me” in my ask, and I will write a fluffy drabble characters trying to woo one another [be it out of the blue/Valentines Day, feel free to specify.]"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for ilovealistair for leaving me so many prompts. This one has Raylan and Boyd in his teen years, in case it's not clear to everyone.  
> Hope you enjoy it!

“I know whatchu doing.”

“Really, Raylan? And what is that?”

“It’s not going to work.”

“Raylan, how can you tell for sure my attempt is not going to work if you can’t even be sure I’m attempting anything?”

“I know whatchu doing.”

“So you have said, my friend. You gonna stand there like a horse all night or you’ll sit down with me for a while?”

“I’m not sitting with you.”

“Raylan, why are you being this difficult? What is it that is so unusual about this? Haven’t we drunk ‘shine together out here in the woods before? What got you so scared, boy?”

“It was… different, Boyd, I don’t know. Hell, it was never… you know, just us, and we never had glasses or a fuckin’ tablecloth or the goddamn stars…”

“If the stars are making you uncomfortable, I could always turn them down a bit?”

“Not funny, Boyd.”

“C’mon, it was a little funny. Raylan, either you sit your skinny ass down or you get up and leave, either way I’m drinking this shine, with or without you.”

“Alright, alright, asshole. Gimme that fuckin’ bottle.”

“…”

“…”

“So… is that a new shirt? I don’t think I ever saw you wearing that shirt before.”

“…”

“C’mon, Raylan, is it new? Help me out here.”

“I won’t cooperate with your…”

“With my what, boy? Speak up.”

“I said: I won’t cooperate with your lil’ date.”

“Date? And what about that innocent commentary made this a date? Did I say this shirt match your eyes or somethin’? I was merely stating…”

“You didn’t have to…”

“…stating I believe this is a new shirt you’re wearing this evening.”

“…You didn’t have to, Boyd, ‘cause I know whatchu doing!”

“…Fine. Be that way. I ain’t touching you, am I? What is it that got you so afraid?”

“What is it…? Boyd, I just… How the hell can you even…? Look, alright, I know you ain’t doing nothing wrong, and I know you won’t… you won’t try… it’s just, sitting here, with you, alone, it’s enough to make me…”

“Make you what?”

“It’s just, it feels weird, you know? Between us. Like we’re always just ‘bout to do somethin’. Sometimes I’m standing next to you and I look at you and I feel as if… and I know I shouldn’t feel it, and damn, Boyd, I know you feel it too, don’t you lie to me!”

“I ain’t saying I don’t. I’m just surprised you do too, that’s all.”

“Fuck. I’m not saying that I want it, I’m saying that’s how it is, and if I was in my right mind I would be running away in the other direction, not fuckin’ sitting under the starts and getting drunk with you.”

“But you’re not.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I said you’re not running in the other direction. You think I don’t know you had a date with that girl Jenna Lee tonight?”

“I…”

“That’s okay, I ain’t asking for explanations of any sort. I’m just saying you didn’t have to come, you could be anywhere else with that lovely young lady, but you’re here anyway, wearing a new shirt and all.”

“What is it about the damn shirt?”

“Well, Raylan, it’s new, isn’t it? It’s a nice shirt as well, that’s all I’m sayin’. And you know what else, I think you’re even wearing a lil’ bit of cologne tonight, am I wrong?”

“…So what? You’re wearing it too.”

“Now, my friend, you see, that’s the difference between you and me. I know exactly where I want this night to end, and even though I won’t push you in that direction, I’ll make everything in my power to see you following it willing. But here you are, wearing a new shirt, dressed as you would to a date, when this whole night could be just as well about two friends getting drunk in the woods and nothin’ else. So the real question here is whether you want this to be a date or not, son.”

Raylan looks at Boyd and here it is again: the feeling that they’re about to start something neither of them will have the power – or the will – to stop. He recognizes the lust and he recognizes the fear in Boyd’s eyes, it’s been there for long enough Raylan is not sure what those eyes look like without it. What changes now is that Raylan is certain both feelings are just as clear in his own eyes, and fuck, what the hell is he fighting here anyway?

He takes another sip of the moonshine, the bitter taste that burns his tongue and his throat. He’s more than tired of maintaining a clear head, and it’s time to get drunk.


	5. Love Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ilovealistairs prompted me:  
> "Leave a “Love Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a fluffy drabble about two (or more) characters."  
> I'm not sure this is fluffy, but here it is!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy!

“It’s not a question of either I love you or not, you see?”

“Hmm. Sure thing, Raylan.”

“You’re not mad at me, are you?”

“Why would I be mad? I’m not. If I close my eyes a bit I’m not sleeping, ‘kay? I’m just… resting. This room is too bright.”

“It’s eleven p.m. and you’re sleepy already. You’re getting old.”

“And who is it with all the gray hair again?”

“The only reason you don’t have gray hair is ‘cause you barely have any hair left in that head of yours.”

“Raylan, you were on your way to say something ‘bout not loving me, if I’m not mistaken.”

“No, that’s the thing, Boyd, you are mistaken. ‘Cause what I was sayin’ is that it ain’t a matter of loving you or not loving you. It’s a matter of having to deal with you, you see?”

“Hm.”

“Every damn day I ask myself why the hell would I risk so much just to be here with you ‘cause, let’s face it, it’s not like you’re some Victoria’s Secret model…”

“Flattery will get you anywhere.”

“…and you’re not getting any younger. And it’s not like I’m exactly gay…”

“Oh, fuck, not that again.”

“I ain’t sayin’ I’m straight, but I was married, I have a kid, therefore, I’m not gay. So, what I’m sayin’ is that I could be with any girl I wanted…”

“Providing she was able to deal with your narcissism.”

“…and it would probable be a safer bet than some ex-criminal lord connected with all that white supremacist bullshit and the whole hillbilly preacher drama.”

“Hmm.”

“Not gonna smart-ass me ‘bout that? ‘Kay then. Anyways, I’m quite convinced that even if I had started a gay romance elsewhere with, let’s say, a younger man…”

“Hmm. Don’t poke me, I’m listenin’...”

“…like, let’s say, maybe that guy from Johnny’s bar? He’s pretty cute, don’t ya think? Pretty young as well. Maybe I could teach him a thing or two. Or, I don’t know, maybe Tim, you know? Tim Gutterson, the guy I work with? He’s pretty hot, hm? And he’s not as young as Jimmy the bartender, but I think he may still be ten years younger than you. Maybe even more. I wonder if he would be up to it. Maybe if I suck him, whatchu think?”

“…”

“Yeah, you’re not even listening anymore, are you? You see, that’s why I have a point here. I come here, to fuckin’ Harlan, and you damn well know I hate this place, don’t pretend this comes as a surprise. But I come here anyway, and it’s a three fuckin’ hours drive, and when was the last time you drove all the way to Lexington anyway? It’s always me comin’ here, isn’t it? And it’s a risk I’m taking, I’m playin’ Harlan Roulette with my career here, and the day someone at the office decides you didn’t wash your hands enough before meals, I’m going down with you. You see what this means?”

“…”

“And you can’t even stay awake to hear me, ‘cause you’re a goddamn old hillbilly who’s getting more bald with every given day. And I deal with you anyway, Boyd, ‘cause honestly, I don’t think there’s anyone else who will.”

“…”

“No, really, who else will put up with your shit? Besides, someone has to keep an eye on you. Make sure you won’t be tempted to go back to your criminal ways anytime soon, or that you won’t try and bring back Hitler from the death or somethin’.”

“...”

“I’m the one who has to deal with you. Damn, I’m not even sure why… I do suppose it has a little to do with love, after all. I mean, you’re not all bad, but you’re pretty bad most of the time, and that ain’t no reason for me to stay unless, you know, I love you, and for real too. So yeah, I guess it does have to do with love, if you think about it.”

“I’m surely glad you do think about it, Raylan.”

“… You’re an asshole, you know that, right?”

“But you love me, so you have to put up with me. Yes, I got the speech. As long as you know you’re an asshole as well, we’re all good.”

“…and?”

“And what, son?”

“I’m an asshole and?”

“And I’m still here, ain’t I?”


	6. Quiet Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ilovealistair left a prompt in my ask, saying 'Quiet Me'  
> "Leave a “Quiet Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about one character trying to calm another down [be it from crying, from lashing out, feel free to specify.]"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there, Gunslingers! This one is set on the episode Bulletville, 1x13. Raylan and Boyd travel by car to get Ava back, and Boyd is dealing with the death of his friends and the lost of his faith.

He won’t cry, he won’t cry, he won’t cry…

He wants to scream.

He wants to scream because it’s not fair, not in the least. It’s not about the cruelty of it, or the violence: he’s a Crowder and a son of Harlan, he’s more than used to the blood stains, the bruised knuckles, the bullet wounds. It’s not that, not the futility of the lives that ended just like they started, without a meaning, even one as silly and empty as truly happiness.

No, that’s not why he wants to scream, but the sheer unfairness of it all: that the moment he tries to be good, tries to be right, it all comes crawling down on him, death all around, the bodies of soldiers and friends as worthless and empty as the dry leaves on the ground.

It’s not the first time he tried, not really. No, the first time he was young, new to the world, and he thought he could step aside everything his father touched. He worked on the mine, and his shoulder used to touch the shoulder of another boy, another soul trying to get it right, trying to escape. That soul was warm and close, and he kept the boy near, and he dreamed at night that he could be a miner, miserable and sick, but right.

Then the world came crawling down all around them, a mountain trying to swallow them whole – the boy was gone, and he was alone, and there was nothing else to make right in a county of wrong.

He tried again. He joined the armed. He never felt the weight of wrongness so strong, his finger against a trigger as he killed anonymous enemies. Not his enemies. At least, at home, you could look a man in the eye when you were about to end him.

So he stopped trying.

‘Till the boy came back, a full grown man, the justice and the law, the righteous soldier, the sword of Saint Michael.

And he tried; one more time he tried, because he thought if the boy was near he could be good once again. And this time he had faith, real, brilliant, glowing faith: faith in God, faith in the boy, faith in God because he brought the boy back to him when everything seemed lost. A boy to miss his heart, a lawman to free his soul and imprisoner his body. He had faith.

And once again the world falls apart, and what good came from that faith? He’s now all alone, more lonely than ever, and not even Raylan can offer him direction.

He’s lost.

He knows they have a mission, that they have to get Ava, but he’s sure now he won’t be able to do it right, that’s he’ll fail once again. And he feels like screaming, because he’s done trying, tired of being always wrong. He’ll scream, he’ll scream inside this car until the road turns into a blur and they’re both dead, he and Raylan, he’ll scream until the sky can hear how fucking unfair all of this is, until everything burns and the mountain can finally swallow him whole, he’ll scream…

“Shhh. Like this, just like this. Shh.”

He doesn’t know when Raylan stopped driving, when did they get out of the car. He can’t tell the exact moment Raylan’s hands came to rest against his back, when did Raylan started hugging him tight, holding him against his chest. He’s not sure when did his resolution to not cry turned into dust, when did he hugged Raylan back, muffling his words against the man’s shoulder. He’s not sure how all that happened, but now he’s standing by the side of the road, and the boy is there, holding him together, preventing him from falling apart.

…maybe, just maybe, this time. The boy is near, with his warm, bright soul. Maybe this time he can do it. Maybe this time he can get it right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this one! You wanna reach me, I'm at ohthati.tumblr.com !


	7. Tell Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ilovealistair prompt was Tell Me:  
> "Leave a “Tell Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about one character confessing something to another [be it a love confession, a secret, feel free to specify.]"  
> Her characters were Art and Raylan, in a platonic way. So here it is:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm awake two days straight. I have no idea what the hell is happening. I'm not sure i should be posting that.

Two shots in:

“I lied to you.”

“Well, Raylan, I can already tell I don’t wanna hear whatever it is that you’re about to tell me. You sure you wanna confess to your boss while you’re drunk?”

“I’m not drunk yet. Besides, I asked you to come so I could tell you. I lied to you.”

“So you’ve said. Do I want to know what about?”

“No. Gotta tell you anyway. Three years ago, you asked me if I knew Boyd…”

“Shit.”

“…and I told you we weren’t buddies. That we dug coal together.”

“Let me guess: you never dug coal, you were actually career male models together.”

“Nope.”

“Porn stars?”

“Look, I lied, okay? We were close. Pretty close.”

“No shit. Color me shocked. Raylan, for fucks sake, if you think I haven’t figured it after all the shit that went down between the two of you, then you must believe I’m somewhat retarded.”

“No such thing. I just thought, you know, I should let you know. That we were, I mean. That we were close.”

“Okay. Feel better now?”

“Kind of.”

***

Three shots in:

“You know, he’s not… he’s all legal now.”

“I’m sorry, say that again.”

“Boyd Crowder.”

“I got that, Raylan. I want you to repeat the part where he’s not a hillbilly kingpin asshole anymore, this time slower, as if I’m stupid.”

“C’mon, Art, you know he’s not in the whore business anymore, not since…”

“Not since his fiancé decided she wanted nothing to do with this life after that hooker’s death.”

“Yeah. Not since Ava… And he obviously doesn’t have the bar anymore, so it would be a bit hard for him to keep the heroin selling. Besides, I talked to Duffy, it seems like he’s now best friends with one of the boys from Noble’s Holler, since Limehouse is looking to expand his business. Don’t seem to me Wynn would bother negotiate with them if Boyd was still in business…”

“And? I’m still not convinced here, Raylan.”

“So, I thought he might be just in the security business, since that was always the biggest Crower legacy, but I went to talk to him. He’s got a Dairy Queen now. He’s not doing anything illegal.”

“You took his word for it? Seriously?”

“Look, Art, I asked around, okay? Limehouse and Duffy are the kings now in Harlan. Boyd is not living in Clover Hill any more, he’s got a fucked up room smaller than my place…”

“Must be a record.”

“... and he’s working his ass off in that damn Dairy Queen. So yeah, I believe he’s living honest. Or, you know. Boyd’s version of honest.”

“…”

“You got nothing to say?”

“Did you get some ice cream?”

“He gave me something to lick alright…”

“What? Speak up.”

“I said: I could never resist some Dairy Queen Blizzard.”

***

Five shots in:

“We were, you know. Close. Real close… like, close.”

“What? Who are we talking about again?”

“Boyd.”

“I thought we were talking about Rachel.”

“Nah, don’t feel good talkin’ ‘bout her when she’s not here to defend herself. Don’t seem fair.”

“So you wanna talk about Boyd again?”

“Well, he was never one to play fair.”

“I thought we were done talking about Boyd. You make your point, the man is honest now. I believe it.”

“Yeah. Just… yeah.”

“Raylan, is there something I need to know?”

“Well, I’m sure you don’t need to know…”

“Let me rephrase that. Raylan, is there something you’d like to tell me?”

“It’s just… you know, Boyd ‘n me, we met when we were just teens, and we didn’t know shit ‘bout life…”

“Raylan, let me stop you right there. There’s only two reasons I imagine for you to feel compelled to tell me all this: one, you made something illegal with Boyd when you were both kids and now this thing is coming back to bite you in the ass; or two, you were his boyfriend.”

“Well, when you put it that way, I guess I’m kind of relieved it’s option number two.”

“Guess what, Raylan, I’m not! You saying that all this time I let you work on the case of your fucking teenage sweetheart? You know how bad this could have fucked things up if he ever said anything?”

“I knew he wasn’t gonna talk.”

“And how the hell did you know that? Because Boyd Crowder was always such an honest, non-manipulative man? You just said yourself he was never one to play fair! Were you fuckin’ out of your mind?”

“I told you you were gonna be mad.”

“No, you told me jack shit. You put your ass, and my ass, on the line ‘cause you couldn’t be bothered to tell me you had a love affair with Harlan’s biggest crime lord!”

“Look, I wanted to forget it, alright? It had been a long time ago, and I thought it didn’t matter anymore. And every action I took was justified, every single one.”

“You telling me you never turned a blind eye to Boyd’s business?”

“I’m tellin’ you I have my conscience clear when it comes to do my job.”

“…Okay. Okay, Raylan. I believe you. Is there a particular reason why you’re mentioning all this now?”

“I… no, not really. Just thought you ought know.”

***

Seven shots in:

“Hello, Chief Mullen.”

“Raylan, am I hallucinating or Boyd Crowder just sat in our table?”

“Well, I can see him as well, if that’s whatchu askin’ me.”

“I understand you fine gentlemen have already started the festivities without me.”

“You took your sweet time gettin’ your ass here.”

“Well, Raylan, I should remind you of how long does it take to drive all the way from Harlan to Lexington?”

“No need. I drive my ass back and forth every fuckin’ weekend.”

“Wait, wait, wait a moment here. Raylan, is this what I think it is?”

“What do you think this is, Art?”

“Did you get me drunk to tell me you’re dating Boyd Crowder?”

“Now, Art, you’re being quite unfair. The point of bringing you here was never about getting you drunk, it was about getting me drunk ‘nough to talk ‘bout this.”

“You surely know how to make a man feel special, Raylan.”

“Boyd, can you please not flirt in front of my boss?”

“No, Crowder, don’t hold it back on my account. By all means, flirt away. In fact, feel free to make out with him, make this a whole gay show. I don’t give a shit. I’m gonna finish my shot, call a cab and go pass out at home. Comes morning, if I don’t remember shit, Raylan, do me a favor, would you?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t make any more confessions.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u?


	8. Value me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leave a “Value Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about my character telling yours how they feel about them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, ilovealistair was lovely enough to leave me a prompt on my ask.

“Why would we choose this?”

“What do you want me to say? Do ya want me to talk ‘bout destiny, Raylan? About being meant to be with you before the beginning of times, about the wonders of serendipity, every leaf that had to fall so we could meet under those constellations tonight?”

“I want you to tell me why you’re here.”

“I think I’ve told you twice already, boy, and even if I wasn’t exactly using my words, I thought I’d made myself quite clear through my touches. Are you losing your memory?”

“Humor me.”

Boyd turns towards him; a smile in his face that made it quite clear that this was exactly what he was doing – humoring Raylan.

“You want me to compliment your looks? Talk ‘bout those shinnin’ eyes stuck on that pretty face of yours, those sweet lean hips, your cute smile and those mile long legs?”

Boyd touches said legs, running his fingers up and down the thighs and rubbing his nose on Raylan’s neck. He’s teasing, but the true is, he could talk the whole night about those legs, about those eyes, about the birth marks and the belt scars in that body. He could, with pleasure, draw that map, all the hills and the caves, even the dark mines hidden on the man’s chest – he desired even those, each holler and bloody river of Raylan’s geography.

“That why you came?” Raylan asked, and Boyd could feel against his skin the doubt, vibrating through his voice.

“Oh, so you want don’t wanna talk ‘bout my lust. You wanna talk about my love.”

“Boyd…”

“Raylan, I came here lookin’ for you. I chose this, and all the risk, all the certain pain there is still to come, the shame and the infamy, because of my love for you. You want me to talk about what you mean to me, I ain’t clever enough to conceive any other word to say what ya want to hear. Anything I say to you will sound cheesy and foolish, ‘cause that’s what loving is anyway. You can wish me to invent another way of burnin’ for you, of caring about you more than I care ‘bout myself, of talking about love without using those four letters, but you can’t really expect me to accomplish that. I may be many things, boy, but a poet I’m not.”

Love was forbidden with Raylan Givens. Love was all he got.

“But it feels like poetry.” Raylan said under his breath, and Boyd could already feel him moving away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be the last one on this little drabble series, but I'm still - and probably always will be - taking prompts for our boys. I just don't promise how long it'll take me to post, but I'll get to it eventually. We end on a sad note, but I do hope you've all enjoyed it.

**Author's Note:**

> The prompts are here in http://askboxmemes.tumblr.com/post/31099194023/even-more-drabbles  
> Everyone who left me a message get his own.  
> You wanna prompt me? I'm at ohthati.tumblr.com !  
> THANKS for reading it!


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